Sawyer peels off to grab another round and returns a few minutes later carrying drinks. He slides a vodka soda my way, and I thank him.
Using large, strong hands, he pushes up the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt. The fabric bunches at the dip in muscle near his elbows. He doesn't speak, but his eyes are on mine, and his thick, dark-fringed lashes sweep over his skin with a long blink. “I’m sorry about what happened to you earlier.” He points at the bar.
I glance over, my annoyance flaring. "Has anybody ever given you that much trouble when you tried to order a drink?"
He rubs his chin as he considers my question. "I don't believe so."
"It's bullshit." Anger creeps into my voice, probably more than I should really feel about that situation. I’m mad at the hunters, for treating me like they did. At my dad, for not allowing me to work on the HCC.
Sawyer's eyebrows lift. "Is that all that's upsetting you tonight?"
My hair falls into my face when I shake my head, so I gather it and lay it over my shoulder. I tell him about my dad first, and then the hunters. His jaw tightens during my second story, one of his hands curling into a fist.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you out.” He relaxes. “At least I was around to help with the asshole bartender.”
My eyebrows wiggle. ”You weren't that helpful, if I'm being honest."
Sawyer grips his chest. "You wound me."
A smile pulls at my mouth. "The truth hurts sometimes."
Sawyer places two fingers on the base of his wineglass, turning circles and making the red liquid swirl. "You say it like you know."
"Unfortunately, yes." Austin's light brown hair and nerdish vibe runs through my mind.
Sawyer leans forward, those stormy eyes capturing me again. "Tell me more."
"What do you want to know?"
"Who hurt you with the truth?"
This is all feeling very heavy suddenly, but he’s asking, and I believe Sawyer has some truths of his own to share. Maybe if I tell him mine, he’ll tell me his.
"Why should I trust you?" I ask. It still feels like I should put up some sort of fight.
"I haven't given you a reason not to." His voice is deep, rumbling across the table like a mini earthquake.
I like that answer. I like the idea of earning something simply by not having broken it yet.
"I was in college up until a few days ago. I was seeing my professor. And I caught him. Red-handed." Sawyer's eyes widen in anticipation of my next words. "With his wife."
Sawyer blinks. "I thought I knew the ending to that sentence. Turns out, I didn't."
My laugh is hollow. "For what it's worth, I didn't know he was married." I picture Austin handing a tiny, bundled baby over to his wife. "Or that he had a new baby."
Sawyer sucks in a breath. "Sometimes people aren't who they present themselves to be. What did he have to say for himself?"
I shrug, acting like I don't care, but the truth is that it hurts. "I didn't confront him. Just a text to tell him it’s over and not to contact me.”
"Has he called?"
I nod. “Many times. I let it go to voice mail."
"I'd say he deserves the silent treatment."
"And more. But I'm too tired to dole out punishment. Emotionally," I add, when I see him check his watch. "Physically, I'm just fine. Enjoying my drink." I tip my head and smile at him. "Why did you come to Sierra Grande?"
"I needed a change of scenery."
